Meet Mrs Holmes
by klaegirl621
Summary: Meet the woman who was able to win the heart of this famous detective who swore never to marry. Who is she, how did they meet, and see her adventures alongside Sherlock Holmes, John Watson and every bad guy in between.
1. Chapter 1

London could be bleak at any time of the year, but winter definitely was the bleakest. That was the only thought that ran through her as her body decided to disobey her mind and lied down on the table without fighting. She wondered how she had ended in the position she was. Then she remembered it all started one day some years before with a photo and a detective. Who knew that day she and her sister had outwitted the great Sherlock Holmes that she would end up in this position ready to be sacrifice like all the other girls. He owed her big time and then some. Then again if he hadn't let her help she would have found some way to be in the middle of it all. As she kept wondering about her life she felt herself rising from the altar. She felt like a broken puppet that someone else was controlling. She was definitely worrying now. That's when she heard them, the footsteps. Either the man controlling her didn't hear them or he didn't care. At the moment she didn't care either all she wanted was to take control of her body. That's when the chants started to get louder and louder, or was it all inside her mind. That's when she realized what her body had done, without any thought she had reached out for the knife and was pointing at herself now.

'HOLMES! SHERLOCK' she kept shouting in her mind. That's when she felt it, a hand stopping her from plunging the knife into her heart. Yet her body decided to fight him and move up to the knife. Finally with some struggle Holmes took the knife from her. Simultaneously and eerily the candles extinguish and a rush of air departed the tunnels. As she started getting control of her body she looked up at the man that had change her life so completely.

"Sherlock Holmes," said the man behind her, "and his loyal dog. Tell me, doctor, as a medical man, how did you like my work?"

"Oh yes let me show you how much I have enjoyed it." She heard John said to the man who was still concealed by the hood. She felt more than saw Sherlock leave her side. She had always been aware to his movements around her.

"No Watson, don't. Observe," said Sherlock.

"How did you see that?" She heard John ask. She tried with all her might to turn around and see what they were talking about but she was too tired.

"Because I was looking for it," she heard something breaking, it almost sounded like glass.

"Lord Blackwood?!" Yes that was the man that had kidnapped her that was his name. She felt herself getting weaker and weaker to the point where even her mind wasn't responding now.

"You seem surprise," said Blackwood. It was almost like he was taunting John. Or was that just how he spoke to people. Her mind was far from forming coherent thought.

"I'd said the girl deserves your attention right now." Oh no he did not dismissed her like that. Not after everything she had done for him.

"Indeed," said John. He was definitely not happy about the situation. Then again happy wasn't the right word yet it was all she could think about at the moment. That's when she heard it then unmistakable thud sound of someone hitting someone else. John was a nice person but he was also a doctor and seeing what had happen to the other girls had really affected him. As she looked up into his eyes she couldn't help but remember how they met. Then again she really couldn't remember how they had met.

"Oh I'd leave that alone if I was you Boyle." Lestrade was here now she would finally be able to leave. "Good lad."

"Impeccable timing, Lestrade. We've gone for the doctor... and one for the rope."

She was either going deaf or going unconscious. She couldn't hear the people around her anymore.

"This woman needs a hospital, now!" That she heard clear as day.

"No John wait," it was the first words she had utter since the whole night started and her throat hurt. As John held her up so it was easier for her to speak she gained some consciousness. Sherlock had started moving forward toward her when he heard her speak but Lestrade stopped him for a second.

"You were supposed to have waited for my orders."

"If I had, you'd be cleaning up a corpse and chasing a rumor. Besides, the last murdered girl's parents hired me to find their daughter's murderer, not the Yard. They wanted the man who killed their daughter caught. I can't imagine why they thought you'd need any assistance."

"Well, London will breathe a sigh of relief," said Lestrade.

"At the excellent work of Scotland Yard. As usual."

"Sherlock." she called out with a weak voice.

"Holmes she wants you," called out John putting her back down to rest.

"Ah yes, bravo, Lestrade. Have a cigar." He gave Lestrade the cigar while walking away from him.

With the last ounce of energy in her body she looked up at Sherlock. It was definitely amazing how much he had change and yet so little since they had met. As Holmes looked down on her the look in his eyes could tell you a lot of the feelings the man was experiencing. Hers only had one look and it became pretty clear what it meant when with her last energy she punched him with a right hook right under the nose. She was weak she had an excuse for her poor aim.

"Good Lord Isabel why did you hit him like that," asked John trying, without succeeding to force down a laugh.

"That's for cutting it so close," she said as she once again leaned on John for support.

"Yeah she doesn't seem like she needs a doctor Watson," said Holmes while holding his nose trying to see if he was bleeding.

"Well you were the one who married her. You should know how strong she is. Still she needs to be taken to the hospital."

As they took her away to the hospital she could hear a police photographer said, "Gentlemen cheese."

She smiled knowing that would be another photo where her husband's face would be obscure.

221 B on Baker Street had seen better days. Autumn had given way to winter and John would be moving out at the end of the week. She knew her husband wasn't taking it great and she didn't need to hear the gun shots to tell her that. That didn't mean that the moment she heard she didn't dive for safety.

"God Sherlock what are you doing up there," she asked herself.

"Missus please, help me I don't feel good going up there," said Mrs. Hudson as she came in with John's last patient. "The doctor asked for a cup of tea."

"Of course I was actually doing some for him." Isabel knew that Mrs. Hudson didn't like Sherlock but she tolerated him because of her and John. Also Sherlock was not leaving the apartment any time soon. Heck they didn't leave after they got married because 'this is where my job is established Isabel'.

"Go one Mrs. Hudson I will escort the captain out and follow you up."

"Thank you dear," Mrs. Hudson said as she left the kitchen with the tea Isabel had made.

After letting the captain out Isabel moved up the stairs. As she entered her husband's office she heard him said to Mrs. Hudson "is it poisoned, nanny?"

Mrs. Hudson replayed to him with a sneer saying "There's enough of that in you already."

"Beside you should really worry as it was I who made the tea Sherlock." Isabel had come in and was trying to see what she could take from his office without being screamed at. She decided to remove an old tray from behind him.

"Don't touch that. Everything is in its proper place, as per usual."

"Yes well unless this is one of your experiments to see how quickly tea can grow fungus this tray is going down to the kitchen." Isabel says as she ignores him and removes the tray then crosses back towards the door to give the tray to Mrs. Hudson. As she moved she noticed their dog didn't look so god.

"Here we go Mrs. Hudson thank you. John he killed the dog again."

"What have you done to Gladstone this time?" Both Watson and Isabel moved toward the unconscious dog.

"I was simply testing a new anesthetic. He doesn't mind."

"Holmes! As your doctor..."

"He'll be right as a trivet in no time."

She could see that John was getting tired of his friend. She understood what both Sherlock and John thought about Sherlock's time in seclusion that did not mean she like it. Yet her time with Sherlock would come. At the moment it was John's turn to scream at him.

"... and your friend, you've been in this room for two weeks. I insist you get out of here."

"There's nothing of interest to me out there, on earth, at all."

"Nice sweetheart," she sneered at Sherlock.

"Except for you darling," he said back to her looking her over.

"So, you have nothing to do?" asked John. The question seems innocent enough but Isabel knew John and the tone behind the question. It was the same tone that had made her agreed to checkups after every case. Even the ones she had nothing to do with. Yet Sherlock didn't seem to notice it. So she sat back to see who would win this match.

"Nothing," said Sherlock

"Then you're free this evening."

"Absolutely."

"For dinner."

"Wonderful."

"The Royale."

"My favorite."

"Mary's coming." And just like that John had won the match. With a little smile on his face at Sherlock's almost completely shock face John walked away.

"Not available." Sherlock said trying to get out of what he had just walked into completely willing.

"You're meeting her, Holmes!" John screamed at Sherlock. It had been an ongoing war between them as to when they would finally met Mary.

With a weird look on his face Sherlock turn back to John, "have you proposed yet?"

Knowing where this was going John sighted and looked back at his friend. "I'm still looking for the right ring."

Sherlock smiled at his friend, "then it's not official."

John had enough. It was the same every time they talked about Mary. For the light of day Isabel had no idea why Sherlock was so against John marrying but it was getting tiresome for everyone.

"It's happening, like it or not. Half past eight. The Royale. And wear a jacket."

"You wear a jacket," was Sherlock's response as John left the two alone. Isabel smile as she looked at her husband when she saw something she hasn't seen that much through the year in his eyes, fear. There was definitely fear in Sherlock Holmes eyes.

"Alright then could you please explain to me why you are so against this whole thing?"

Isabel walked to her husband and sat on his lap putting her arms around his neck. She felt him moving his hands around her hips and snuggling into her neck. Yes for everyone out there who mouth is hanging as low as the floor, apparently Sherlock Holmes loves to smell his wife neck. John had been right about a lot of things except one. Every night Sherlock would leave his office and sneak into his bedroom trying not to wake up his wife. Every night she would wait for him awake. And every night he would hold her while she slept in his arms. Actually it was more common for him not to sleep in their bedroom while on a case than when he was between, but then again she didn't sleep through a case either.

"I just don't like her," he said in her neck.

"How can you not like her already, you haven't even met her."

"Exactly. Watson is not a man of staying inside all day and never having an adventure. But she is going to try and change him. And that is the start of a really miserable marriage. They are completely different."

"Alright first you and I were completely different if I remember correctly and we are good together. Second how would you know how she is going to react before you meet her correctly? I thought you never made a conclusion without all the evidence."

"My dear in the only way you and I were different was that at one point I was following you for being a bad girl," he said with a smile. "Still you are right I don't know her yet, and I repeat I know Watson too well."

"Sherlock Holmes listen to me very carefully," Isabel scolded him turning around so that he would look at her directly in the eyes. "We are going to go to dinner tonight, you are going to be a perfect gentleman, and after we are able to talk to her for at least ten minutes we can make our own conclusions."

Isabel stood up from her husband's lap and started walking toward the door.

"Do you remember what happen the first time we met?"

Isabel smile, "you mean after the three times you almost caught me? Yeah, you tried to read me in that weird way you do. Do you remember what happened after that?"

"Yeah and my cheek still hurts," responded Sherlock while rubbing his cheek.

"Good, the remember that for tonight, go and take a bath," she called back to her husband remembering how the slap she gave him that night was not compared to the punch she gave him the night after when they met for a second time.


	2. Chapter 2

As Sherlock and Isabel sit in a table waiting for John and Mary to arrive. They had arrived early out of a miracle, Sherlock normally arrive about twenty minutes late if ever to this kind of occasions. Yet there was a drawback to this. Isabel knew her husband got his senses overload in a place with many people. Now they were in a restaurant and he could pick up almost everything in it. As Sherlock closed his eyes she started getting worried.

"Sherlock concentrate on my voice, come on. Listen to me."

He was coming back to himself and just in time too.

"Holmes! You're early," said John. He was accompanied by a woman.

"Fashionably," responded Sherlock with a small smile.

'She's beautiful, in her 30s, and clearly a woman worth marrying. I think John finally found his girl.' thought Isabel as she looked at the woman with John.

"Mary Morstan," introduced John the woman on his arm to his friends.

"My pleasure," said Holmes while kissing her hand. "For the life of me I don't know why it's taken him so long to get us properly introduced."

"The pleasure's mine. It really is a thrill to meet you, Mr. Holmes."

Sherlock gestured politely, and as they sat, Sherlock introduced his wife. "My wife, Isabel Holmes."

"Hello is a pleasure to meet you."

"Nice to meet you as well, I have heard so much of you from John," said Mary as she looked at Isabel. They sat together on the table Isabel in front of Sherlock and John to her left and Mary to her right.

"I've a whole stack of detective novels at home. Poe, Wilkie Collins..." started Mary. So the girl likes mysteries. Isabel could see what John had seen in the girl. It's not every day that a man that is dedicated to mystery meets a woman like Mary.

"It's true," said Watson proudly.

"They can seem a bit far-fetched sometimes, though. Making these grand assumptions out of tiny details." Isabel smile at that. Sometime it could seem far-fetch but she had seen Sherlock do it time and time again.

"Oh, no that's not quite right is it," said Sherlock looking into space almost like he was thinking of something yet knowing exactly what he was saying. "The little details are by far the most important. Take Watson..."

"I intend to," interrupted Mary getting a laugh out of both John and Isabel, while Sherlock forces once out.

"... see that walking-stick? A rare African snake wood hiding a blade of high-tensile steel. A few were awarded to veterans of the Afghan war, so I can assume he's a decorated soldier. Strong, brave, born to be a man of action. And neat, like all military men. Then I check his pockets... ah. A stub from a boxing match. Now I can infer he's a bit of a gambler. I'd keep an eye on that, by the way."

"Those days are behind me."

"Yes, right behind you," looking at Mary Sherlock said. "He's cost us the rent more than once."

"With all due respect, Mr. Holmes, you know him well." Isabel could see where this was going and she looked at John to get everything under control once more. "But what about a perfect stranger? What can you tell about me?"

While Sherlock looked up at the ceiling almost considering the idea Isabel can see John almost instantly tense.

"I don't think that's necessary –"

"Yes, I doubt –"

"I insist."

"You insist?" Sherlock looked at John. "She insists."

Isabel looked a Sherlock trying to stop him. "Sherlock remember we discussed this?"

"The lady insists," said Sherlock before moving over to Mary.

Sherlock looked intensely at Mary in the eyes for a moment then said, "You're a governess."

"Well done," said Mary with a smile on her face.

"Yes, well done. So shall we –"

"Your student's a boy of 8."

"Charlie's 7, actually."

"Then he's tall for his age. He flicked ink at you today."

Pleasantly surprise Mary looked at John. "Is there ink on my face?"

"There's nothing wrong with your face," responded John. Isabel could feel it the tension rising. Now the question was who would react first Mary or John. John was one who never let a woman be disrespected in front of him, yet if Mary liked mystery books she could take care of herself just fine.

"There are two drops on your ear... India blue's nearly impossible to wash off, anyway. A very impetuous act by the boy, but you're too experienced to react rashly - which is why the lady you work for lent you that necklace. It's from Asprey's, flawless, not the gems of a governess." Isabel could see Mary getting uncomfortable by the second. "However, the jewels you're not wearing tell us rather more."

"Holmes." John was alarmed, and that's when Isabel saw it the light ring form around her finger. Yet she knew her husband was gone.

"You were engaged." Holmes' mind has gotten away from him she could see it. He begins talking faster, intensely focused, almost like a maniac. "The ring is gone. But the lighter skin where it sat suggests you spent some time abroad wearing it proudly. Or at least until someone informed you of its true and rather modest worth, at which point you broke off the engagement and returned to England for better prospects." Sherlock pause almost like he was just coming back into himself. That's when Isabel saw it happen. "A doctor perhaps."

Mary threw her glass of wine in Sherlock's face. After taking a break as if to breath she said, "Right on all counts but one. I didn't leave my fiancé... he died."

"Well done, old man," said John getting up to go with her. "Good night Isabel."

"Good night."

After a moment of silent between the two Sherlock turned to Isabel. "She's lovely…"

"Sherlock not now."

"Isabel I…"

"It's not me that has to hear your apology Sherlock. Finish eating then I'm going home."

"She is not right for him."

"Out of everything that happened tonight that's what you got out of it, that she isn't good enough? After the way she handle you I would say she is not only right for him but she is ready to move in with us all. It was much more than what you said to me and I slapped you so hard I was half way down the street and you hadn't open your eyes yet. Yet you forgot to look for the most important thing of all. Did you see how they looked at each other? They truly love each other. So listen to what I'm saying either find a way to get along with her or be ready to risk you friendship with Watson."

After they finished eating they walked back to their home. Isabel went directly to their room to change and get into bed. It had been a long day and an even longer night and not only was she tired but she was disappointed at her husband. The problem with Sherlock was that she knew that he would not ask for forgiveness because in his mind he was just protecting his friend. It was going to be a long night.

When Isabel woke up the next morning she realized that it had been the first night since she was kidnap that she hadn't slept in her husband's arms. She didn't get worried he would turn up eventually like always. As she prepared herself a cup of tea, she liked doing her own chores it was her released in between cases; that she heard the front door open. John had walked into the kitchen when he saw her.

"Ah John I thought it was Sherlock."

"Ah yes, Holmes."

"Oh please John you know he didn't mean it."

The look John gave her was enough to know what he was thinking. "Al right maybe he did but he thought he was doing a good thing."

"Isabel thank you but nothing you say can make what he said better."

"How's Mary?"

"Trying to understand why my best friend acts like he doesn't want the best for me."

A long silence followed that statement.

"If it means anything I liked her."

"Thanks Isabel it actually means a lot," he smiled at her. That's when they both heard knocking at the door.

"I'll get it," said John.

Isabel heard a man talking to John on the door. When the door closed and John walked into the kitchen once more. His face was a masked of grim as he looked at her.

"John what is it?"

"We need to find Holmes. He is Blackwood last request."


	3. Chapter 3

As John and Isabel walked into the pub they saw it was closed. There was only a few people cleaning up, mopping the beer and blood from the night before. Without much trouble they walked up the stairs knowing where they would find Sherlock. As Isabel entered the room she saw her husband looking intently into a glass.

"Watson?"

"And your wife," said John as he walked into the room. "Let's go."

"What started as an experiment has brought me to the threshold of monumental discovery," said Sherlock like he hadn't heard his friend talk. "Look at this. If I play a chromatic scale, there's no response…"

After examining a few bottles that Sherlock had on a table while Isabel took out a new shirt for him to wear she had brought him John turned around and said. "You know this is for eye surgery?" asked John.

"WHAT!?" The alarm was clear in Isabel tone as she dropped the shirts and went to see what John was looking at. She knew Sherlock sometimes took things that were meant for a completely different purpose. It was the only way he could actually shut down his brain when sleep didn't come to him. Yet every time she would scream at him for doing it.

Acting like he didn't hear them Sherlock kept talking. "But if I change to a tone of pentatonic scale they fly counterclockwise in synchronize circles. Watson this is exceptional I using musical theory have created order out of chaos."

Feeling mad not only at the fact that he was ignoring her completely but had also given her quite a scare with the poison he drank Isabel decided to play with him a little.

"How did you lured them in?" she asked with fake interest. Yet Sherlock didn't see it. He was truly exited.

"Excellent question individually. I've been at it for six hour."

His excitement was palpable and that made it all the more satisfying when, after picking up a pen that was on the table, Isabel used it.

"And what happens if I do this?" Picking up the magnifier that was covering the top of the glass hit it with the pen so the flies flew out of the glass.

Sherlock stood there looking at the flies as they left the room. Then he looked down at his wife. His shirt was bloody and he looked like he took at least one good punch during the match.

"Clean yourself up you are Blackwood's last request," said John as he walked away from the couple.

"Here there is a shirt in the bag and a coat. Do you want me to stay with you?"

"No Isabel, don't worry."

"I already saw the bruises so don't bother trying to cover them."

"Fine then here," said Sherlock as he took his shirt off. "Throw it out it has blood on it."

As Isabel walked away from him he asked her something. "Are you going with us? I don't feel comfortable with you near him even if he is behind bars."

"No I don't think so. I will stay outside. The last thing I want it to see that man again before he is hanging with a rope around his neck and his feet has stopped twitching."

As the trio was riding the cab toward the station the tension was consuming them. Or at least Isabel and John, Sherlock seem to be oblivious to it.

"Look at that structure. What has it been? Five years' work already? Are you aware that is the first combination of bascule and suspension bridge? Very innovative." No reply. "Oh, I have your cut from last night, by the way. You weren't there so I laid your customary bet." Silence. "You're right... I'll keep it with your check book, locked safely away in my drawer." Silence. "The opera house is featuring Don Giovanni and I could easily procure three tickets if you had some cultural inclination this evening." Silence. "You have the grand gift of silence, Watson. It makes you quite invaluable as a companion."

That's when it happened; John punched him square in the face.

"I knew she'd been engaged. She told me."

"John!"

"It's alright love I'm alright."

"I'm not worried about you Sherlock. That's a new shirt and if either of you get blood on it we will have more problems."

As the men in the cab looked at her Sherlock spoke up. "So that's a `no' to the opera then?"

As Sherlock was putting on his waistcoat John spoke up once more.

"That's my waistcoat."

"It's too small for you."

"Well, it's my property and I want it back."

As soon as John had it back he promptly tossed it out of the carriage window. Holmes frowned and looked out the opposite window. Then it happened they started smiling and just like that the tension was broken.

Already a crowd was gathering outside the jail, papers were for sale, Blackwood's death on as the headline. Religious zealots and occultists swarm. Police kept them away from the entrance. It was total chaos.

As they got out of the cab John said, "It seem like Blackwood's hanging has the crowd in a bit of frenzy."

"The fear is sure to dissipate once his feet stop twitching," said Sherlock as he turned to help Isabel out of the cab. "Care to come along?" He asked John once she was firmly on the floor.

"You go ahead. I've no business with him while he's alive."

"Alright," Sherlock said turning to Isabel. "Stay near him once I'm done I will come to you."

"Why so worried Sherlock?"

"Blackwood was not working alone, and though the man in the sewer ran of that does not mean that at one point he will not try for revenge. You my dear were the one that got away." Kissing her forehead he walked away.

"Sometimes he actually seems like he cares."

"Oh John."

As they walked of Isabel couldn't help but be worried about her husband. Until Blackwood was good and dead he would not stop seeing threats everywhere.

After his talk with Blackwood Sherlock went straight to his wife and they left the prison one next to the other without looking back.

Inside the room where the execution takes place it was packed to the rafters with senior officials, members of the government and cops. We get a good look at some of the faces. Watson is there too. Blackwood walks up into the noose.

"**Death is only the beginning"**

And that was the last they would hear of Blackwood. Or so they thought.

A weird sound awoke Holmes from a restless dream. It wasn't his wife that much he knew; she had gone out to the market. Yet her smell was still in the room, more so than ever. That's when he realized it wasn't her smell. Sure it was her perfume but it wasn't her smell. Another crunching sound, crack, followed by a line that he had heard before.

"London's so bleak this time of year."

And his eyes snapped open. Yet he didn't move when he heard her come around him. He had ended sleeping on the floor because well it had just happen. He stayed still not really sure what to do for a moment.

"Not that I'm pining for New Jersey. I prefer to travel in the winter."

The woman moved around him and stoop in front of him giving something in a basket. Irene, that's when he knew he was in trouble, it wasn't every day that Irene came to see him. With her auburn hair and brown eyes she the same exact copy of his wife. Then again that tended to happen when you had a twin.

Irene for her part didn't look like she realized the conflict inside of the man.

"I brought a few souvenirs," Irene said as she stood up and waited for him to get up. "Dates from Jordan, tea from Ceylon and olives from Cyclades. I thought we'd have a little tea party to cheer us up." As Irene moved away from Holmes he got up and started looking around going to make sure the safe was lock. "I came across this as I was setting up; it's a file with my name on it." He picked up the walnuts from the floor and picked up a photo of his wife that had fallen to the floor in his haste. "Theft of Velasquez portrait from the King of Spain... Missing naval documents lead to resignation of Bulgarian Prime Minister... Scandalous affair ends engagement of Hapsburg Prince to Romanov Princess."

As she turned around the photo slipped from his fingers landing on the table face down. He started eating the walnuts.

"Simply studying your methodology for when the authorities ask me to hunt you down."

"I don't see my name anywhere."

"But your signature is clear," as she walked up to him, Holmes reached for Irene and pulls on a chain around her neck, revealing and enormous diamond. "Ah, the Maharajah's missing diamond. Another souvenir?"

"Let's not dwell on the past. Shall we?"

They moved to sit at the table. "By the looks of things you're between cases at the moment."

"And you, husbands. How much did you get for the ring?"

With an exaggerate motion she sat on a chair. "Oh he was boring and jealous and he snored. I'm Irene Adler again and I need your help to find someone. There's nobody more brilliant or who knows London better than you."

Irene reached for something inside her jacket and Holmes grabbed her hand.

"Why are you so suspicious?" she asked almost mockingly.

"Should I answer chronologically or alphabetically?"

"Careful not to cut yourself on this lethal envelop. This is all the information you need." She handed him an envelope.

"Who are you working for?"

Just for brief moment, she couldn't hide the anxiety in her eyes. Holmes saw it and was almost taken completely by surprise by it. Whoever this was she really feared him and something that one of those twins ever feared wasn't good.

"I'm my own man," she said like she was trying to convince herself. Standing she pulled out a bag of coins. This was it he would either take the case or bring this woman back into the life of his wife or he didn't and saw her suffer if something happen to Irene.

"Keep your money. I didn't say I'd take the case."

"Consider it a wager that you will." Holmes looked down at the envelop to see the Grand Hotel stamp on the back. "You remember the Grand? They gave me our old room."

"Irene that was ages ago. It's in the past. You know I have made a new life for myself."

"Yeah I remember, I also remember I wasn't invited to the wedding of my own sister."

"I seem to recall that not only were you invited you turn down the invitation. Enclose in it was also a letter telling your sister that if she married me she would regret it for the rest of her life. Let me see if I remember: 'Marriage was going to make her soft and one day she wouldn't be able to handle it and would return to your side'. More so that when she returns you would not take her back. How I'm I doing so far."

"You took it too personally. I must admit I was a little jealous. After years of a cat and mouse game with me you meet her once and never forget her? Come on Holmes how was I supposed to react I had been trying to get you to follow me around the world for years. Beside you were taking away the one person in the whole world that could make me do anything she wanted without me regretting it."She took a deep breath and put the photo back upright. "She really looks beautiful in that picture." With that she walked out of the room. As Holmes looked back at the picture that had fallen it was the picture he had the photographer take in secret on their wedding day. Later he found out she had know about the photo and that was the reason as to why she was smiling in it, or at least one of them.


	4. Chapter 4

Isabel saw John reaching the house and called out to him. "John, wait!" John saw her and helped her with the bags she had been carrying.

"Did you get everything you needed?"

"Except the five cabbage head that Sherlock wanted. I have no idea what he wanted them for, but he will not be able to do it in the house. Not while I'm around." Isabel smiled up to John.

"Thank God I'm leaving him behind with someone with a good head on her shoulders," he said laughing at her. They walked into their house laughing thinking about old times when they both had been able to stop Sherlock from exploding the house. Also about the few times they weren't able to stop the explosion from happening. Isabel entered her home for a minute thinking that she had looked at herself in a mirror. That's when she heard it.

"Hold the door. Thanks doctor."

Leaving the bags in the kitchens both Isabel and John turned with a nut in their stomach. They met Sherlock half way toward the office.

"Sherlock what are you doing?"

"Nothing."

"Is that a false…"

"Nose, no."

"Tell me that wasn't …"

"It wasn't."

And with that Sherlock jumped out a window. Another crash then he called out. "Watson, Isabel." She on her part had enough. With a sense of satisfaction she closed the window and locked it then walked up into her husband's office with John behind her laughing as they enter the office.

As Sherlock washed his face in a basin as Isabel sat next to John who was reading the paper with a smug look on his face.

"Look at you two she is here no more than fifteen minutes and she has you both in a twist already."

"Allow me to explain," said Sherlock as he turned toward his companions.

"Yes please," the tone alone should have been a warning to Sherlock, but the look that she sends his way meant one thing and one ting only; she was mad.

"She entered without my knowledge. I was asleep."

"Yes because you don't jump half a mile every time I enter a room you had been sleeping in."

"That's because I'm always waiting for you to come back. Her not so much."

"Yeah because she was here for just a few minutes. I wonder what she did while you were asleep."

"Listen to me, nothing happen she just made me a picnic."

John could see Isabel's face turning red. That was the problem with Sherlock. Ask him to lie his way out of a life or death situation he's out of it in less than a minute. Ask him to talk his wife out of a fit of rage; he would probably make it worse with three words. That's why John decided to intervene.

"What's she after, anyway?"

"Now it's time to press on."

"Go on. I won't interrupt."

"It doesn't matter –"

"What could she possibly need? An alibi, a beard, a human canoe. She can sit on your back and paddle you up the Thames..."

"John please," Isabel implore John.

"Sorry Isi...I already read it," called out John to Sherlock after apologizing to Isabel. Sherlock had been trying to take the envelope back. "Luke Reordon, four foot ten, red hair, missing two front teeth. Case solve!" John said once again going back to his paper. "Your sister has a weird taste. She likes ginger dwarfs." He said back to Isabel.

"Midget!" called out Sherlock.

"So you agree?"

"No, I don't agree. It's more than a technicality. You're misrepresenting the dimensions of foreshortened people."

"I don't think she's interested in him in that way John," said Isabel who had calmed down more by hearing the whole story. "Unless he has two times the money the last one did. It's the only way she would be interested in him." Both Sherlock and John looked at her questioning. "It's the missing front teeth. She could get over the whole midget height thing, but not the missing teeth."

Sherlock Holmes strummed one more chord on his violin, thinking.

"This man intrigues me, Watson. He's got Adler on edge," said Sherlock taking his wife in his arms.

"Which is no mean feat."

"She's intimidated, scared..."

"And yet she works for him. That's bad money. It's nothing to do with me, but leave this case."

"Well, I may not have a choice. A man has to make a living." Sherlock looked at Isabel thinking of everything that had to be done now that John was leaving. "After all, I'll be paying the rent entirely on my own. Thanks to you," said Sherlock pointing at John.

"Get that out of my face."

"It's not on your face is in my hand."

"Get what's in your hand out of my face."

Lowering Sherlock's hand trying to maintain peace Isabel sat back into her husband. She didn't want to bring Irene back into their lives. The last time she had talk to Irene they had a fight were Irene told her she had to choose between Irene and Sherlock. The problem was Isabel was smart, really smart; it was one of the things she shared with Sherlock and Irene. Yet she was not a bad person. Yes she knew how to fight, but how things were these day the woman who didn't know how to defend herself was in big trouble. Of course she had stolen some things trough out her life. Yet she did not like to actually steel anything. Through the years she had done what was necessary to survive. Irene on the other hand like what she did, she truly live for the moment of the next job. So when the time came it wasn't too hard to walk away from a life of crime and into the arms of a great man. Her thoughts were interrupted by Sherlock.

"Clarky!"

"Mister Holmes, sir...? Inspector Lestrade asks that you come with me, at once."

"What's he done now, lost his way to Scotland Yard? Watson, grab a compass. You mean us." Sherlock said smiling at his friend.

"Us means you."

"It's Lord Blackwood, sir. It appears he's come back from the dead," said Constable Clark. Isabel likes Clark he was a sensible man and of all the officers in the Yard he was the one that respected her husband the most. Yet even she took on a look of skepticism when she heard Clark's words.

"Well that's clever seeing as how I pronounced him dead myself." John was offended, who dared tell a doctor that he didn't know what he was talking about. Sherlock on the other hand had lean forward to the point she almost fell from his lap.

"What are the facts?" asked Sherlock.

"A grounds man saw him walking through the graves, just this morning," responded Clarkie. Isabel could see the fear in his face.

"I'll leave this one in your capable hands," John said getting up and patting his friend on his knees. "I have an appointment with Mary and her parents this evening."

Isabel could see it coming; she knew John had walked into the trap all by himself. "It is not my reputation at stake here."

"Don't try that."

"Have the papers caught wind of this yet?"

"That's what we are trying to avoid sir."

"Certainly. What is the main concern?"

"Panic, cheer bloody panic, sir."

"Indeed."

"You are not taking this seriously are you Holmes?"

"Yes as you should," said Sherlock standing up making sure Isabel was steady with a hand on her back. "This is a matter of integrity. No woman wants to marry a doctor who can't tell if a man is dead or not."

Isabel looked at John. They both knew what Sherlock was trying to do. They also knew that it was working.

It seemed every man from Scotland Yard was at the cemetery. The three companions got out of the cab behind Clark. As they walked up to the crime scene they all looked around.

"Who do you think won the match Clarkie?"

"Sir?"

"The rugby match. Your boys have done a magnificent job at obliterating evidence."

"But at least they never miss an opportunity to miss an opportunity."

As they walked up to the crypt they hear a voice from within.

"You took your time Holmes."

"And on the third day..." said Sherlock in an ominous tone as he walked closer to the opening of the crypt.

"These slabs are sand stones, they are half a pound each and they were blasted from the inside. "

"Lestrade what of the coffin?"

"We are in the process of bringing it up."

"At what stage of the process, contemplative?

Isabel had been looking around at the graveyard. She couldn't see anything amiss. Then again Watson had been right the men from the Yard had destroyed any chance at finding anything useful for the detectives, yet she could see other things. Like a man hiding from everything and everyone.

"Anyhow where is our witness?"

"Over here," Isabel called back to her husband as she walked up to the shivering man. She heard John walking behind her as she approached the man.

"Hello my name is Isabel this is Doctor Watson," she said as John started to check the man.

"He is in shock he is going to need a few minutes."

"It's alright John go to Sherlock I will stay with him."

"The witness stated that he saw Lord Blackwood rise from the grave. Well? You pronounced the man dead."

"He had no pulse." John was stressed. Isabel knew John loves being a doctor and having his reputation question was actually insulting.

That's when Isabel saw it. Finally the officers had brought up the coffin. She walked back to Sherlock as John and Lestrade used crowbars to open it. The coffin was filled with earth, to a point of overflowing. There was also a dead body in it. The body was a man smaller than Blackwood in cheap everyday clothes, with red hair

"That's not Blackwood," said Lestrade in an obvious voice.

Sherlock look almost pained at his words. "Now that we have a firm grasp of the obvious... Time of death?"

Isabel usually didn't have anything to do with the bodies so she stepped back and watch her talented husband and friend working.

"Lividity is late stage. Diptera deposits are approximately - three quarters of an inch, putting the time of death at ten to twelve hours ago."

"Inspector, may I see your pen?" After wiping the pen of Sherlock used it to pry open the corpse's mouth, revealing: two missing teeth in the man's jaw. Now this was interesting for Isabel.

"Missing two incisors in the upper jaw..." she said looking at her two companions.

"Adler's dwarf."

"Midget."

Isabel knew her husband. After the whole mishap at the beginning of their relationship, Sherlock had romance her trying to make everyday an adventure. Then one day he tried a magic trick. It wasn't much just a trick of the eyes but she had been train to detect those kind of thing in others and how to make sure others didn't notice them on her. Back then on their date she had laugh and clap asking how he had done it, trying to make sure he didn't notice she knew the trick. To these day he didn't know she figure out the trick while he was doing it. Just like at that moment when with just a trick of the hand he had taken a pocket watch from the dead man.

"I know what I saw. It was Blackwood. As clear as I see you. And when the dead walk, the living will fill these coffins."

Standing up Sherlock took his wife arm in his and with John they walked away from the scene.

"You didn't really think his back from the dead."

"The question is not if but how. The games afoot."

"Follow your spirit, and upon this charge," both men said together. "Cry for Harry, England and Saint George.


End file.
